


Everything is under control

by Nyx_Fedra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is not nice in this one, Heavy Angst, Minor Neville Longbottom/Theodore Nott, Necromancy but only like a little bit, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, but only a pinch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyx_Fedra/pseuds/Nyx_Fedra
Summary: WandaVison AUDraco Malfoy dies during the Battle of Hogwarts.In the aftermath, Hermione Granger’s grief, her pain, is unbearable.Her magic explodes into something that has never been seen before.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 30
Kudos: 113





	Everything is under control

**Author's Note:**

> The story contains spoilers from the WandaVision finale, so don't read if you don't want to get spoiled.  
> While the story is heavily inspired from the tv show, there's only a couple of quotes from the show itself towards the end, and the story proceeds and ends differently.
> 
> English is not my first language but mistakes are still my own.

# Everything is under control

Grief is bottomless.

Grief is darkness.

A nightmare without end.

Every time Hermione closes her eyes, she sees him fall, she remembers his skin, colder and colder under her palms, the flash of the curse hunting her, always in the corner of her eyes.

The part of her that still manages to stand, whatever is left of her after the war now that he is gone, thinks that she can do it. That maybe she can learn to smile again, to live with the bottomless emptiness that once used to be filled by him.

Even George has managed to leave his room, to go back to the shop. She can do it, too.

Hermione really thinks she can do it. She’s overcome so much in her brief life, she can… live, even if it is a life without him. Fight the pain with the memories of their happiness, his smile, his silver eyes, their light banter, _their love_. Yet, the nightmare is always there, and not only in her mind. His eyes losing their light, his last breath breaking her soul into a million pieces, it’s all around her, all she sees and all she hears. It’s all that fills the emptiness around her most days, all the places he used to be. She tries to hold on to the pieces of him that live in her memories, tries to fill the emptiness with them, with the memory of him next to her in bed, his chest against her back as she boiled water to make them tea, his reflection in the mirror as he watched her struggle with her hair, his smirk that always made her heart skip a beat. But it’s never enough.

Somewhere along the way, the nightmare becomes all there is. A pain so sharp it cuts into every muscle of her body.

Then one day something breaks, even if Hermione thought there was nothing left of her that could be broken.

One moment, and she’s living in the never ending nightmare that is life without Draco.

Then, the blink of an eye, and she’s finally awake.

Everything is as it should be.

Draco, standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

‘Hello, my darling’

Hermione smiles, truly smiles, for the first time in months.

* * *

When Shacklebolt bursts into his office, Harry thinks the worst.

He just started working at the DMLE after five months of training, six months since the Battle of Hogwarts, since Voldemort died. Everything is still fresh in his mind and he cannot help but instinctively reach for his wand. The newly-elected Minister of Magic expression doesn’t ease his tension at all.

‘What happened?’

‘Assemble a team of Aurors’ it’s the only answer he gets.

‘Kingsley…’

‘I can’t… I don’t even know how to explain it. Everyone is gathering there, you’ll see for yourself’ Shacklebolt says, and Harry can see his hands shaking.

‘Gathering where?’ he asks, praying, hoping that Voldemort isn’t back. He’s about to propose to Ginny, George is finally getting better, Teddy is staring to walk and…

‘Malfoy Manor’

The name petrifies Harry, fear chilling him to the bone. Because if it’s Malfoy Manor, then it’s about Hermione.

He’s running out of the door so fast Shacklebolt has trouble keeping up.

* * *

She’s laughing as Draco holds her in his arm, carrying her as if she weights nothing over the threshold of their new home. The warmth of his hands seeping through even despite the layers of tulle of the skirt of her wedding dress. His eyes are shining like molten silver as he carefully lets her down, his hands moving to her waist as he smiles down at her.

‘Well, here we are Granger. We made it’

‘Granger-Malfoy’ she corrects him before rising on her tiptoes to kiss him, savouring the taste of his chuckle on her lips, his hair silken between her fingers.

‘Excited for our fist night?’

Draco is already teasing her and Hermione cannot help but laugh some more.

‘Of course, I’m looking forward to having a whole house for ourself, no more hiding’ she says finally looking around.

The house is everything she has ever dreamed of: cozy, filled with books, the style a mix between modern and antique, shades of red and green united by the warm brown of wood, silver accents here and there.

‘I have to say, I was a bit anxious about moving into a muggle neighbourhood, but it looks fairly nice, wouldn’t you say?’ Draco asks while looking around as well, hands on his hips, his wedding suit slightly crumpled by their travel, but he’s still the most handsome man she has ever seen.

‘Oh, we just have to be a bit careful not to be seen by the neighbours’ Hermione’s first instinct is to reach for his hand. She knows how difficult this is for him after a life spent at the very heart of wizarding society, but after everything, she thought that getting away as they started this new chapter of their lives together was the right choice.

‘I’ve never lived in the muggle world before, so I am a bit anxious. But getting away was the right choice’ Draco beams at her, his expression free of anxiety, of worry, and his smile makes her heart swell with so much love it’s hard to believe that she is even capable of it, to hold all of it inside her.

‘Thank you for agreeing’ her voice almost cracks.

‘Of course, darling. Everything for you, you know that’

He can see her so well, understands her so well, all of her, her fears, her anxieties, and he’s never left. He loves all of her, and it feels unreal, Hermione still doesn’t know how she got to be so lucky, how in the mists of all that has happened they managed to find each other, despite the hate and the pain, holding on to love.

Once, she thought the wizarding world was a magical place, a fairytale come true, but she was proven wrong almost immediately. Now though, Hermione is not so sure that is true. This is _her_ fairytale, _their_ happy ending.

Draco’s hand is on her cheek, and she leans into his touch, his gaze telling her that he, too, is almost overwhelmed by the fact that they are finally together. They have their happy ending. A quiet life, as husband and wife.

Normal.

Well, except for magic, of course.

‘So, husband mine, shall we?’ she asks with a smirk, dragging him up the stairs by the lapels of his suit jacket.

His smirk lights a fire inside her, a fire that he diligently strokes to life with his hands, his mouth, his body covering hers, moving against her, until pleasure overflows, until they fall asleep in each other’s arm, until they wake up still holding on to one another.

As it should be.

* * *

Harry has no words to describe what’s in front of him.

Malfoy Manor, not only the house, but also all the grounds around it, are completely surrounded by it, _covered_ , by what looks like powerful wards. But they aren’t wards.

As Shacklebolt said, everyone is there, waiting anxiously as the Unspeakables finish their assessment. Harry already knows they won’t be able to tell them much. Hermione has always been able to do the impossible.

This was no exception.

The _barrier_ is red, glowing in the night, emitting a faint sound similar to the one the old television in the Dursley’s house made once it was turned off after it was used too long. As even McGonagall seems afraid to get too close to it, Harry doesn’t know how to act.

‘Has anyone tried to get inside?’ it’s only thing that makes sense to ask, but everyone shakes their heads, tension filling the air.

‘When was the last time someone spoke to or has seen Hermione Granger?’ Percy asks, not even looking up from the report he is already compiling for the Ministry.

The silence that follows cracks something inside Harry. Guilt rushing to the surface and taking his breath away. Draco Malfoy defecting to the Order after Voldemort killed Lucius just before the fall of Ministry had shaken his and Ron’s friendship with Hermione in unexpected ways. No matter how much Veritaserium Malfoy had willingly drank in front of their eyes, neither he nor Ron were ever able to trust him completely.

It was undeniable that even as he remained closed inside one of Order safe houses, his contribution to their efforts against Voldemort had been considerable. Malfoy was an amazing potion master, rivalling even Snape, but that was not what Harry had seen at the time. As he and Narcissa remained hidden, Harry had started to resent them more and more, easy targets for his rage as they were. Ron had followed suit. But not Hermione.

He and Hermione worked together days and nights, looking for how to destroy the Horcruxes, how to cure the new curses used by the Death Eaters, growing closer and closer until it reached the tipping point: Hermione stopped sharing a room with Ginny and just moved into Draco’s.

Ron didn’t take it well, Harry sided with Ron, and Hermione just clenched her jaw, anger and betrayal in her eyes, before turning her back to them. Yet she never stopped helping, _they_ never stopped helping. Hermione and Malfoy discovered that fiendyfire could destroy Horcruxes, it was because of Malfoy’s brews that many lived, it was because of Hermione’s knowledge that many survived. Narcissa suddenly appearing after Voldemort casted his killing curse, killing the Horcruxes that lived inside him, was the reason Harry was alive, the reason Voldemort had been defeated. She sacrificed herself, but Harry knew she didn’t do it for him, she did it for a better future for her son and Hermione.

A future her son never had.

As Harry steps closer to the barrier that surrounds Malfoy Manor, ignoring Ron’s pleas to stay away from it, the memory of Draco Malfoy’s death resurfaces in his mind, clear as if it just happened. Him falling like so many had that day, eyes empty turned towards the ceiling of the Great Hall.

Malfoy’s death had not healed the wedge between him and Hermione, it widened it. If once he thought it impossible to go on weeks, months, without talking to her, Harry has become increasingly accustomed to it, until she became an afterthought.

Harry still doesn’t know how it happened, why did he let it happen, why he didn’t try to reach out to her even when he knew she was in pain. A part of him knows why, of course, he just doesn’t want to admit to himself that in a world that was slowly rebuilding itself, it was uncomfortable to stay close to her, not when she was still in so much pain, even after months. Even Andromeda, who has lost both her husband and her daughter, has gotten better before Hermione.

Three feet away from the barrier, the air is almost static, electric, full of something he cannot name, but the noise that comes from it makes him shiver. Underneath it all, if he listens, if Harry really listens, he can hear Hermione’s heartbreaking scream, the one that had been torn out of her chest as Draco Malfoy’s body fell, again and again.

A never ending loop of pain.

* * *

‘This is… undignified!’

Hermione cannot help but chuckle at Draco’s indignation, at the way he scowls at the misshapen freshly cooked biscuits in front of him, his face adorably covered in four.

‘It’s just like potions’ she says swinging her legs where’s she’s sitting on the counter next to him, taking a bite out of one of his green apples, the book she was reading forgotten in her lap.

‘Do not insult the noble art of potion brewing, Granger’ he says trying to sound firm, but Hermione can only smile at that, reaching for him to wipe some of the flour away from his chin.

It’s all the invitation Draco needs before settling between her legs, his hands on her thighs are he nuzzles his nose against hers. He looks dashing even in relaxed muggle clothing, even covered in flour and grumpy at the way his first batch of biscuits turned out. Watching him brew always had a calming effect on her, he pulled her into his tightly controlled environment with ease, allowing her to relax inside the structures he had created to steady himself and his mind, until she could find her balance again. Watching him cook relaxes her as much as it relaxes him, something born out of love and affection rather than anxiety and fear.

‘I thought we were the best team, big brains club’ he joked, his forehead pressed against hers as Hermione breaths him in: mint, freshly cut herbs, clean cotton. Draco always smells like a crisp spring morning, like _possibility_. ‘You’re not helping, just laughing at me’

His pout is adorable, and Hermione kisses him until it turns into a smile, until he melts under her hands.

Draco doesn’t need to brew day and night anymore, they are safe, happy. He can cook, try and fail, as much as he likes. They can relax, enjoy their happiness.

‘Didn’t you also said that unlike _someone_ , you won’t dump all the workload on me?’

She leaves a kiss on his nose as she traces with her thumbs the shape of his smile, the proof of their happiness under her fingers. Everything she has ever dreamed of.

‘I did say that’ Draco hums in agreement, his hands sneaking underneath her thighs, lifting her off the counter and taking her to the living room to once again abuse their beautiful green velvet sofa.

‘I love you’ she gasps as his lips are on her throat, tears in her eyes ‘I always thought no one would love me, that no one will really see me, not all of me, but you did, you do’

‘I do, Granger, I do’ Draco growls, a silver fire in his eyes, ‘you barged into my brewing room and changed _everything_. You have me, my heart, my soul, forever’

‘ _Mine_ ’ she whispers, possessive.

‘Mine’ Draco repeats as he starts to move inside her, making her lose her mind in the most delicious way. ‘My beautiful Gryffindor queen’

Hermione can do nothing more than hold on to him, her hand moving over his forearm, over the dark mark, showing him once again that she loves him, all of him. Her Slytherin prince.

* * *

Ginny has never been to Malfoy Manor.

She suddenly decides to go, six months after the end of the war, six months after Fred died. She goes because, while rummaging through Harry’s clothes looking for something to wear after he ruined her dress the night before by tearing it, she found a ring.

Ginny found a ring and panicked. Even if it was the fulfilment of a dream she has hold on to since she first saw Harry walk into the kitchen of the Burrow. Because there was a war and Fred died, and she’s just been chosen to play for the Harpies, and maybe… maybe Ron wasn’t the only sibling with attention issues. She wants to be a player in her own right, she wants… to live. For Fred. For herself.

She doesn’t want to be a housewife like her mother, she doesn’t want to have as many children as her mother, and Ginny knows Harry will never ask her to stay at home, but… it’s too soon. She doesn’t want to be Harry Potter’s wife. She wants to be Ginny Weasley a little bit longer, but she doesn’t know how to say that.

As she prepares to leave the Burrow with a freshly baked cake in her hands, Ginny’s mind travels back months, to one of the last explosive arguments Harry had with Hermione before the war ended.

_’You say you’re different, but all you do is punish me and everyone who disagrees with you! Even when we all explain why your idea is bad you go forward with it anyway!’ Hermione screams, heavy bags under her eyes, face pale, hands still covered with Moody’s blood, the corpse of the old wizard slowly getting colder and colder behind her._

_’That is not true!’ it’s all Harry screams in response, face red, a nasty bruise already blooming on his left cheek._

_Behind Hermione, Malfoy tries to drag her away, his face carefully blank, the product of Occlumency. The anger is too difficult to control, Ginny can clearly see it, even as annoyed by Hermione’s behaviour as she is. They should stick closer to Harry, he is doing his best and Hermione is always scolding him, Ginny can’t understand why Hermione became so hostile towards her best friend._

_’Harry, you need to rest’ Ginny says taking his hand, deciding to end this before it gets out of hand, and Harry follows her._

_’It’s your fault he’s dead’ Hermione exclaims before they can leave, her voice cold like never before, ‘This wasn’t some unseen attack we barely survived, this was your own stupidity and arrogance that killed him, Harry! He went back because he knew your plan was shit and he died. You want to lead the Order? Be my guest. But first learn how listen, learn how to accept criticism instead of using their concerns, my friendship, to force them to agree with you!’_

_’I don’t take lessons on leadership form someone who became a whore for the enemy!’ Harry snaps, and something forever breaks behind Hermione’s eyes._

_’Careful, Potter’ Malfoy finally speaks as he steps in front of Hermione, he doesn’t reach for his wand, but his tone is enough of a warning._

_’He has done more for the Order in these last months than you have done in years’ Hermione spits, venom coating her every word, ‘he has saved countless from curses with his potions, he is the reason you get to fuck Ginny without worrying you might get her pregnant in the middle of a war. He is the reason you get to sleep without nightmares. Just like I am the reason you are still alive, Harry Potter. Your precious Dumbledore would have left you to die that first year at Hogwarts, I am the reason you didn’t, I am the reason you survived this long. Me, not everyone else. So you will show me and Draco some respect, or you can do this on your own!’ there are tears in Hermione’s eyes, but her voice is cold and firm._

_’He really poisoned her’ Harry scoffs as Hermione takes Malfoy’s hand, leading him out of the room, away from Moody’s corpse and the hate and anger that now filled the space between her and Harry._

Ginny has not thought about that fight since it happened. She has been as opposed to Hermione and Malfoy’s relationship as much as everyone else, she’s been as annoyed as everyone else was by Hermione’s constant complaints about their plans. But seeing the ring was like hearing Hermione’s voice once again. Harry always got what he wanted. What would he do, say, if she refused him?

The first thing Ginny hears as she apparates on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor is someone screaming.

Her last memory is a red wave slamming into her.

Her first memory is knocking on her new neighbours’ door with a cake in her hands and a smile on her face.

* * *

At first, Theodore cried everyday.

Neville has been intimately acquainted with grief, with the ghosts of the people he loved hunting him, all his life, so he knows very well that all he can do is just be there for him. Which is why after the battle he brings Theo home with him, holding his hand as he explains to his grandmother how during the war he has fallen in love with the Slytherin, how Theo was grieving for the childhood friend he just lost, the friend he came out of hiding for, the friend he joined the Order for.

Despite Harry and Ron’s hostility, Draco Malfoy defecting had tipped the scale of the war in the Order’s favour in unexpected ways. Not only Theodore had joined the Order, but Zabini and Parkinson as well, while the Greengrass sisters became important foreign ambassadors of their cause, granting them support and resources from MACUSA.

But Draco Malfoy is now dead, as once again Bellatrix has managed to hurt someone Neville loves. Because watching Draco die had broken Theodore, had killed a part of Hermione, and had hurt Neville beyond what he can put into words. Despite their past, just like Hermione, Neville had grown to first appreciate Draco as the Order potion master, and then as a friend. He spent hours in Draco’s laboratory, talking with him about plants and their properties as Hermione and Theo talked about Transfiguration and Charms. It was a plus that Draco was the reason Theodore entered his life, his heart.

‘It’s not fair! It’s not fair’ was all Theo could say while sobbing those first days after the battle. He cried himself into a fever, but he insisted to go to the funeral anyway, even if he could barely stand.

Neville held on to him just like Theo held on to him during the war, keeping him together when fear and anxiety and imposer syndrome threatened to make him fall apart. He couldn’t joke or smirk like Theo could, but he could give all the soothing hugs he required, he could make sure he was well fed and their room routinely cleaned. Neville did his best, and slowly Theo started to get better, and the more he did, the more they started to worry together about Hermione.

Hermione, who looked like a ghost at Draco’s funeral. Hermione, who walked into Malfoy Manor afterwards and never came out.

Neville tried to help her, bringing her food every day, but she ate little and looked truly sick, heartbroken, unresponsive. She looked like his mother had since Neville could remember, and it scared him so much it had given him enough courage to scream his rage right in Harry Potter’s face in the middle of the Ministry foyer. With a new era beginning, Harry became completely disinterested in the well-being of the friend who has given up so much for him. Which is why Neville stopped speaking to him, to all of them.

‘You did good’ his grandmother said while peeling an orange that evening at the dinner table after he came back from the Ministry. She preferred apples, but she understood Theodore couldn’t stand to see them, a reminder of Draco’s absence. ‘They never came to see your parents, or you. None of them did. Not Lupin, not Dumbledore’

Theodore nodded gravely at her words, as him and his grandmother bonded over their anger at the way the Order and the Ministry treated survivors, those who were broken.

And that had been it.

Neville has not spoken to Harry, Ron, Ginny, or anyone else since, focusing instead on Theodore and his grandmother, on studying for his Erbology Master while Theodore distracted himself with muggle technology. He went to Malfoy Manor everyday, bringing Hermione something different he cooked just for her. Because it felt like something Draco would have wanted him to do. Draco, who spent hours with him in the kitchen in Grimmuld Place learning how to cook for Hermione, as she and Theo teased and ogled the two of them.

Neville relieves those memories every time he turns the stove on, keeps them alive every time he simmers or chops something.

‘If she moved… I would be able to come too’ Theo mutters every day as he prepares to leave with the food carefully packed, before giving him a book to pass on to Hermione.

‘She has barely left his room. It will take time’ Neville says brushing a lock of brown hair away from his face, taking in the way Theo’s hazel eyes shine in the mid-day light before kissing him, fully aware of how lucky they are.

He went to Hermione even the day Harry’s patronus suddenly bursted into their room in the middle of the night, giving Theodore a panic attack. Nothing was different, she was at the window when he arrived, looking over the garden with empty eyes while waring one of Draco’s old Slytherin jumpers, a pair or pyjama trousers too big for her, also Draco’s. She barely touched the food he left for her the day before, so Neville sat down next to her and told her about his studies, as that always seemed to distract her from her pain, at least for a while, and she ate a little.

‘So nothing was different? Nothing out of place?’ Percy asks sounding unconvinced.

Neville doesn’t care about him or the Ministry. He looks at the red barrier that covers Malfoy Manor with wide eyes, holding Theo’s hand tightly.

‘ _Merlin_ ’ it’s all he can say, shocked. The amount of magic is…

‘Do you hear that?’ Theo asks, and Neville’s head immediately snaps to him. He hasn’t heard him so awake, so aware, since before Draco died.

‘What is it?’ he asks scanning his face and finding him deep in thought.

‘I… just give me a second’ Theo says letting go of his hand, making Neville panic. ‘It’ll be a second’ Theo reassures him before disapparating away.

Harry is managing the Aurors and the Unspeakables that have started to set up camp as Neville walks up to him, trying to control the anxiety that always threatens to overwhelm him when he’s separated form Theo for too long. The urge to punch the saviour of the wizarding world is almost overwhelming.

‘You never listen’ it’s all he says, and Harry _finally_ looks wounded, ’she was in pain and you left her alone’

‘That’s not what happened!’

‘When was the last time you saw her?’ he asks, but at Harry’s silence he’s proven right ‘that’s what I thought’

Before their conversation can turn into another argument, Theo apparates once again, rushing towards them with a big black box, a weird looking silver contraption, another black and yellow box, and some black cables.

‘A television?’ Harry asks raising an eyebrow.

‘And a generator for electricity’ Theo says ignoring his skepticism, starting to assemble everything ’the noise… I’m not sure if I’m right, but it sounds like static, the magic seems… weird, and maybe that’s because somehow, when casting so much of it, it was covered in waves through the air so not to fill it completely, so not to become overwhelming. If it was radio it would sound different’ he explains as more people gather around them.

When he finally turns the machine on, nothing happens, it’s just grey dots. Then Theo readjusts what he calls an antenna, and suddenly Hermione is on the screen, smiling, in a white wedding dress as Draco carries her over the threshold of a house that doesn’t look like the Manor at all, but more like a rural cottage. Neville almost jumps when the voices comes through, he has to put his arms around Theo when they hear Draco’s laugh, his face covered in flour.

‘Is this real?’ Ron asks, a hint of disgust in his voice, like always when it comes to Hermione and Draco.

‘It… it looks real’ Theo mutters, silent tears falling down his face.

‘It could be an enchantment, like the ones used by magical theatre companies to create environments’ an Unspeakable says, but another already is shaking his head.

’He’s definitely dead, no magic can change that’ he says pointing at Draco on the screen, the picture of happiness as Hermione traces his lips with her fingers with so much love and tenderness Neville thinks his heart might crack.

‘Maybe it’s like a dream she has put herself into, and she lost control, so she’s projecting it outside’ Shacklebolt theorises, but Harry shakes his head.

‘The barrier is keeping everyone out’ Harry says while turning around to look at it.

‘Potter, where’s your girlfriend?’ Theo suddenly asks, and Neville gasps.

Harry goes still as Ginny appears on screen, entering Hermione and Draco’s cottage with a smile on her face.

* * *

‘Oh, you shouldn’t have!’ Hermione says taking the cake from Ginny’s hands.

‘It’s a housewarming gift!’ the read-head exclaims before she laughs looking around ‘I got to say, you really went all country chic for the decor! I love it!’

‘Well, I grew up very spoiled and Hermione knows very well what brings me comfort’ Draco winks at her before offering tea to their guest.

They chat for some time, but Hermione is not sure she want company. She always had to steal her moments with Draco, she likes that they’re a bit more isolated now, that she can have him all day for herself, that they don’t need to hide, that they aren’t constantly judged.

The moment she thinks that, Ginny is up and ready to leave, and Hermione can breathe a little bit more easily.

‘Granger, despite your childhood fantasies, I won’t allow you to become the witch in the woods. We’ll have to rejoin polite society at some point, you always wanted a career in politics after all’ Draco has eaten almost all the apple cake on his own, and if it wasn’t that she knows how little he ate before, she would have scolded him.

‘Eventually, but we should focus on now. On the two of us.’

‘I won’t argue with that. How about you pick a book and light the fire? I’ll make tea’ he says leaving the last slice to her, a kiss on her forehead before getting up.

‘You’re the best husband’

‘And your only one. You know I’m spoiled. You won’t be anyone’s wife but mine’

Hermione laughs, but she wholeheartedly agrees.

He’s everything to her.

* * *

For two days, Neville watches over Theo as Unspeakables and Aurors work with him to figure out what is happening. Neville might not look scary, but as Theo often says, working with plants has done wonders for his muscles, so he makes it a point to never be too far from Theo and glare at whoever dares to raise their voice against his boyfriend.

There’s a renewed energy in Theo’s steps, a hope that makes him jittery and that scares Neville. He doesn’t want to watch him fall apart again, but he limits himself to look out for him, and for Hermione, as even Harry starts to refer to her more as an _event_ than as a person.

‘She’s in pain and grieving’ he repeats at leats a dozen times a day.

‘We’ve all been there’ or ‘so are we’ it’s what most reply, if they reply at all, and Neville… Neville could hex them, but Theodore told him not to.

‘I need to work with these people, I need to work on _this_ ’ was all he said, so Neville tucked the anger inside him like he has done all his life.

It seemed easy until Molly Weasley shows up crying for her daughter, until Harry does his best to console her, and Hermione is never once mentioned. It solidifies something inside of Neville.

He takes Theo and drags him away from the others, in the tent the Ministry has given them, and fucks him there, as desperately as he did the day before the battle.

‘What was that for?’ Theo asks him afterwards, still catching his breath, Neville still inside him.

He doesn’t answer until they’re dressed again, until he has kissed Theo’s lips raw, because he never has enough of him, Neville thinks he never will.

Theo understands, of course, ‘you’re going in.’

Neville keeps him close, their foreheads touching, a hand on his cheek, ‘Hermione always let me. Maybe she will this time, too’

‘What if you get hurt?’

‘I don’t think she will hurt me. It was the four of us, after all’ he says, and the flood of memories it’s what makes Theodore cry.

Neville kisses him again before he walks towards the barrier, not caring about the way everyone looks at them, at him, like a traitor just because he loves a Slytherin, the son of a Death Eater.

He stalls for a moment in front of the barrier. Harry said he could hear Hermione’s scream up close, but all he hears is static. Maybe what Harry heard was just his subconscious trying to make him understand how much of a dick he has been these past months, years.

Carefully, Neville extends a hand. As his fingers and then his hand go through, he feels nothing. Not even a tingling on his skin. But as he moves to step further inside, something reverberates through the barrier, it vibrates, and he can feel it now, pushing back against him. But Neville is nothing if not stubborn, and he pushes forward until he falls in.

* * *

Hermione wants everything. She always has.

She wanted to be the best and first, and now she wants everything with Draco, everything that life has to offer. She wants her happy ever after.

With her hands on her growing stomach, she watches as Draco looks at her with tears in his eyes as if she has given him the world. He made her so happy, made her feel so loved and appreciated, and she wants nothing more than to make him happy too, for them to be free and happy _together_.

‘We’re going to be parents’ he murmurs in awe, and Hermione laughs with joy.

‘You’ll be an amazing dad’

‘It’ll be disaster if they have your hair’

‘You’ll just love them more’

‘That’s true’ he agrees before leaving a kiss on her belly and then capturing her lips.

‘She’ll be a Ravenclaw’ Draco murmurs, and a flash of panic goes through Hermione.

‘ _No_. We’ll never go there again’

Draco seems briefly confused by her words, but then he nods.

‘Ilvermorny has an outstanding curriculum. We could move to the States, away from everything’

Hermione exhales, her panic being replaced once again by happiness, the warmth of Draco’s hands grounding her.

‘I would like that.’

* * *

Theodore can barely breathe.

He doesn’t care that everyone is looking at him, judging him.

His heart is in a million little pieces, shattered inside his chest, the shards sharp, cutting through him incessantly.

Draco looks happier than Theodore has ever seen him, his hands on Hermione’s belly, now round and prominent.

‘It _has_ to be a girl’ Draco’s voice is full of mirth, his silver eyes shining and overflowing with love ‘I made a bet with Theo, and he thinks our first will be a boy. We can’t let him win, Granger, we can’t let him name our son’

‘You agreed to let Theo name our firstborn?’ the fake indignation in Hermione’s voice makes his eyes blur with tears.

‘Only if it’s a boy!’

‘Oh, Merlin, he’s gonna force us to call our son something like Theodore the Second’

‘Not if it’s a girl’ Draco exclaims.

It’s his laugh that makes Theodore curve into himself, the pain so sharp he cannot even stand.

The last time he heard Draco laugh so freely was in fourth year. He can’t even think about this not being real, about Neville being in danger.

He is not like Hermione.

Theodore wouldn’t survive it. He wouldn’t want to.

* * *

Hermione goes into labour in the middle of her teatime chat with Ginny.

It’s painful, extremely so, and she wants Draco to be there, but he went out to get groceries and still hasn’t returned.

‘Just breathe… just breathe…’ Ginny repeats as she stands between her legs, trying to help.

‘Have you done this before?’ Hermione tries and fails not to panic.

‘Sure, I’ve heard my mom talk about giving birth more times I care to remember. Ok, _now_ , push!’

Hermione breathes, she pushes and screams as she feels magic fill the air around them, the lights flickering on and off, the house moving as if it was being shaken by an earthquake.

* * *

‘Is this… _real_? Was she pregnant? Do we have her medical file?’ Shacklebolt barks and Harry just watches horrified as his girlfriend helps the woman he once considered a sister possibly give birth to the son of a Death Eater, another Malfoy.

Theodore Nott, next to him, has been silently crying for hours, since Neville went in. They barely spoke even when they were in the Order, so Harry doesn’t know what to say to him.

He just goes back to watch the images on the tv screen in silence until a baby with brown eyes and platinum hair is in Hermione’s arms.

‘This is what you took from her’ Theodore says, at no one and at everyone, silence falling over the camp at his words.

* * *

‘It’s a girl!’ Ginny exclaims excited, and Hermione is overwhelmed by emotions as she finally holds her daughter.

Draco bursts in through the door at that very moment, falling on his knees next to her.

‘Do you want to hold her?’ she asks, and he cannot even speak, just nods.

Hermione’s hands shake as she watches them, the two most important people in her life, _her world_. She didn’t have her parents anymore, she didn’t have a place in the wizarding world, but she has Draco, and he would give her everything. He was enough. More than enough.

‘She has your curls, Merlin, her hair will look like a cloud, she’s so beautiful’ he says crying, holding their daughter with so much care she already knows he loves her more than he can say.

She dries his tears away, her hands still shaking lightly, body exhausted from the effort, but she’s unable to stop smiling.

’So, as we won’t need to call her Theodore the Second, what should it be?’

‘Aurora, a light even in the darkest of night’ Draco answers without missing a beat.

‘Aurora’ Hermione repeats, tasting every letter on her lips, drying away her own tears.

Their daughter chooses that moment to open her eyes, and so it’s settled.

‘Hello Aurora’ Draco whispers, leaving a kiss on her sparse platinum hair that match his.

* * *

It takes a while for them to calm down, overwhelmed as they are by emotions, and this time Hermione is grateful for Ginny’s presence.

Now, as Draco goes to finish set up Aurore’s nursery, she can rest on the sofa a little bit longer while Ginny takes care of small tasks like bringing her water, picking up the pieces of what she had inadvertently broken with her magic during labour.

It feels natural for her to stand up and go to Aurora’s cradle, lulling her lightly as a lullaby she has known for as long as she can remember escapes for her lips. Hermione has never considered herself a good singer, but Aurora seems soothed by her voice, falling asleep contently.

‘That was beautiful song’ Ginny compliments her as she comes to stand next to her, taking a look at her baby sleeping.

‘Thank you, my mother used to sing it to me all of the time’ Hermione says, completely taken by how beautiful her baby looks as she sleeps peacefully.

‘She died in an accident in Australia before you could restore her memories, right?’

It’s difficult for Hermione to look away from Aurora, but something snaps inside her at Ginny’s words.

‘ _What did you say?_ ’

‘She and your father died, in an accident, do you remember, Hermione?’ Ginny repeats, and Hermione shakes her head.

‘No… No…’

‘Hermione, listen, I… I don’t know what happen, but I can feel your pain, I understand, if you could just…’ Ginny is speaking fast, reaching for her hands, but Hermione pushes her away. Anger, pain, but also fear, rising and rising inside her like the tide.

‘You are not our neighbour’ she mutters.

‘Hermione’ Ginny pleads, but she can already feel magic underneath her fingertips, and she pushes at it, grasps it until she can pin Ginny against the wall.

‘I don’t want you here. I won’t let you take this form me, leave us!’ she screams, and then she pushes her out, making sure they are safe.

Making sure Draco and Aurora are safe.

‘Where’s Ginny?’ Draco asks coming back with Aurora’s new blanket, green and fluffy, with snakes printed on it.

‘Oh, she had to leav…’

Hermione can’t breathe. She closes her eyes, squeezing them shut, turning away.

The sight of Draco’s face, pale, eyes empty, bruised, makes her curl on herself as pain slices through her.

‘Hermione, my darling, are you alright?’ he asks, she can _feel_ his warm hands on her, it’s the only thing that gives her the courage to open her eyes.

Draco is in front of her, very much alive. Worried but alive.

‘I’m alright’ she mutters as he helps her up.

‘You must be exhausted, let’s rest’ he says.

He picks up Aurora and then takes her hand, leading her up the stairs.

Hermione forgets everything else.

* * *

The barrier is moving, even more than when Neville went in.

The others haven’t seen it yet, but he has.

So Theodore is not surprised when the barrier spits Ginny Weasley out. Although he _is_ surprised when she goes against her boyfriend, when she defends Hermione and gets kicked out of the meeting by Shacklebolt.

* * *

Neville has been walking through the gardens of Malfoy Manor for what feels like days, but he knows time passes more quickly in whatever Hermione has created, so it cannot be more than a few hours. He feels no hunger, no need to sleep, or to go to the bathroom. Whatever the enchantment is, it’s powerful. But he is determined to get to Hermione.

He walks through spring blooming forests, summer meadows and snow covered fields. He can finally see the cottage in the distance when something like thunder cracks the air. For the first time since he entered, he can see the red of the barrier in the sky above him, something making it ripple.

Neville knows it’s nothing good, after all he stopped trusting Harry after Moody died.

So he runs.

* * *

’STOP! STOP! She’s in pain! Please, Harry!’

Ginny is screaming as two Aurors take hold of her. Theodore would be screaming too if he hadn’t already been restrained.

Potter, like the idiot he is, simply tries to talk to Shacklebolt, as if some polite words could stop him or the Aurors’ assault he has planned against the barrier. It reminds Theo of the Battle of Hogwarts, when the Death Eaters started to break down the wards that protected the castle until they cracked and let them in as Theo ran around the castle with Draco, trying to destroy the diadem.

The barrier is different, it resists the attack and it almost seems to move, bend, absorbing the impact.

When the Aurors take a break before the next charge, before Theo can be dragged away with a feral Ginny Weasley, a bump in the barrier appears. Everyone raises their wand and watches in silence, tense and afraid, as it stretches and stretches until Hermione emerges.

Theodore’s eyes immediately look for Neville, for Draco, but he sees neither, and he can feel the panic rise in him as Hermione advances towards Shacklebolt and Potter, a look of cold determination and anger on her face.

Theodore takes a deep breath and it’s then that he notices it, the spiced and pungent smell of magic, a smell he has been familiar with since he was a child, since he has been old enough to avoid his father and his dark magic experiments in the dungeons of Nott Manor.

Hermione has no wand, but with quick movement of her hand the wands of everyone present fly out of their hands.

‘Hermione, what’s going on?’ Potter asks, and he sounds genuinely concerned for once.

‘Leave us alone, have you not taken enough from me?’ there’s a red spark in Hermione’s eyes, and no matter how much Theo struggles, he cannot escape the hold of the two Aurors that flank him.

‘Miss Granger, such amount of magical activity is prohibited!’ Shacklebolt exclaims moving past Potter ‘you threaten the Statue of Secrecy!’

‘And you threaten my family!’ Hermione screams, angrier than Theo has ever seen her. Even Potter is startled by her rage, by the way magic moves around her.

‘What family? Draco Malfoy is dead, it’s not like he can die twi…’ it’s the wrong things to say, but Shacklebolt doesn’t realise it until Hermione hits him square in the chest with something that looks like a bombarda, making him fly backwards until he slumps on the ground.

Everyone is too surprised, too scared by the amount of magic she can wield without a wand to do anything, to move.

‘Stay away from us’ is all Hermione says before turning her back to them, the barrier parting around her like a curtain, letting her in once again.

‘The Minister is injured!’ someone screams behind him, and the Aurors finally let Theo free.

He watches satisfied as Ginny Weasley slaps Harry Potter in the face so hard his glasses fly off his face, and he’s once again surprised as she comes to him, helping him up.

‘We need allies, for Hermione’ she says, her hold on Theodore’s arm so strong he’s sure he’ll have bruises.

* * *

After tucking Aurora in for the night, Hermione walks to the bedroom and stands on the doorway in silence, just looking as Draco dries his hair with a towel and slowly gets dressed after his shower, the scars on his chest, on his body, now a faded silver against his skin.

‘Ogling your husband?’ he smirks when he catches her, and Hermione cannot help but blush.

‘Can’t help it, he’s very handsome’

Draco lets himself fall on the bed as she walks in, letting out a sigh.

‘I love her, but now that she can run she really never stops’ he props himself up on an elbow to look at her as she gets into bed next to him, and Hermione is already smiling.

’I thought you wanted a seeker’

‘Yes, but you said no brooms until she’s five. I’m not getting any younger, keeping up is getting hard’

The pout on Draco’s face is the same Hermione has seen on Aurora’s face countless times now, a stark reminder of how much she loves them, what she would do for them. Everything. _Anything_.

‘Are you alright?’ Draco asks concerned, noticing her expression, his hands already reaching for her.

Hermione lets him holder her, she hides her face in his chest, takes a full breath of him, his favourite shower gel, a mix of wild Tuscan lavender and verbena that he himself makes.

‘I’m fine’ she answers holding on to him.

Draco doesn’t seem satisfied by that, he takes her face in his hands and forces her to look at him, ‘I’m not _them_ ’ he says empathising every word, ‘whatever it is, I can take it. My love is not conditional. I already know and love every part of you, Hermione’

Hermione has to close her eyes, as the nightmare briefly flashes in front of her, his lifeless face, but when she opens them again he’s right there with her, warm, real.

‘Even the part of me that is interested in dark magic?’

Draco snorts at that, as if the notion is funny.

‘Wasn’t I the one who gave you books on dark magic?’ he asks, and Hermione chuckles. He’s right, he knows her. He’s seen her at her worst and at her best, and he never turned away.

As they settle for the night, it’s her turn to see something strange in his eyes.

‘Granger, when are Theo and Neville coming?’ he asks, genuinely baffled, making her freeze.

‘Soon’ it’s all she says, and it seems like enough, for the moment.

* * *

Neville doesn’t know what to make of the little girl in front of him. She has brown eyes and platinum hair so curly they look like a cloud on her head.

‘I’m Aurora’ she says, the words pronounced with no hesitation, and Neville can see the intelligence behind her eyes already, she’s as beautiful and as smart as her parents, so much so it’s heartbreaking.

‘I’m your uncle Neville. Where are your mom and dad? Can we go to them?’

Aurora just nods and with her small hands in his she guides him to the cottage, spring flowers sweetening the air around them. Hermione and Draco are sitting at an iron table sipping tea and reading a book, looking so perfectly content Neville feels guilty for interrupting them.

‘Mom! Dad! Uncle Neville is here!’ Aurora announces, and while Draco stands up excited to see him, Hermione looks at him confused, almost scared.

Neville cannot help it, he hugs Draco, holds him as tightly as Theo would, and still cannot believe it as he finds him firm underneath him, alive, even though Neville saw him die, saw his body next to the others in the Great Hall.

‘Hermione, can we talk?’ he asks, and she nods, leading him away from Draco and Aurora.

* * *

‘Walk me through what happened’ Neville asks, but Hermione can’t.

‘Please’ she’s… not above begging at this point. Neville has always been a friend, he stood by her when no one else did, shared her anger over the hypocrisy of the Order. He fell in love with a Slytherin as well. He must know.

‘I’m not… here to hurt you, all I want is to help you. Tell me what happened so I can do that’ Neville is begging too, his hands holding hers, and she can see how sincere he is, so she nods.

‘Why… why the tv?’ he asks breaking the silence, understanding how difficult it is for her to move, even if she agreed to show him.

‘I didn’t have friends in the muggle world, especially not after coming to Hogwarts. When I wasn’t reading… I watched sitcoms. Nothing bad ever happened, they were all happy… together, they… ‘

Hermione can’t even finish the sentence. She feels stupid for even admitting it out-loud, what a comfort watching tv had been during those long summers, the house empty around her while her parents worked. A part of her had imagined that, maybe, she would have it too: a found family with her friends, holidays gathering, hanging out at her friends flats, someone she loved and who loved her back. Only the last part has come true, the war twisting and poisoning everything else until she wished for nothing more than a quiet life for her and Draco, away from judgement and hate.

Neville just keeps holding her hands, giving her time, space, letting her know he is there for her. He’s done it before, even through her pain and her grief, Neville has remained a constant in her life, the only person who checked up on her. She feels guilty, she never meant for any of this to happen, she never meant to intrude on Neville and Theo’s happiness.

‘I-I don’t know what happened’ she reveals ‘it was just… so much, so utterly alone and empty, and then, I don’t know. I opened my eyes and there he was again’

‘That’s alright. Ginny says she was here the Manor when it happened, she thinks she remembers hearing someone scream. I was there only hours before, do you remember?’ his tone is kind, he’s not scolding her, he’s doesn’t consider her grief uncomfortable like many have after the battle.

Hermione shakes her head, truly not sure about what happened.

‘I want to help, you know I am on your side. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here, but Shacklebolt talked about charging you with trying to break the Statue of Secrecy, we need to figure something out before the International Confederation gets involved’

He’s scared, scared for her, Hermione suddenly realises.

‘Alright, let me see what I can do, maybe with a pensive I could… show you, maybe you’ll be able to see what I cannot remember’ she says closing her eyes, feeling the magic around her, moving her fingers through its threads, waving it to get the result she looks for, but instead of a pensive, a door appears in the middle of the garden.

‘Do we need to go through it?’ Neville asks studying it, but Hermione turns towards the cottage, where she can see Draco help Aurora on a toy broom.

If the International Confederation gets involved… Hermione is not sure how she’s controlling it, how much it can withstand. She needs to unlock her own memories to protect them, Draco and Aurora, her world.

‘Yes’ she says with newfound determination.

She takes Neville’s hand and leads him through the door.

They appear at Hogwarts, behind a younger version of herself as she walks the corridors with Ron and Harry. Looking at it now, Hermione thinks she can already see the cracks forming, the places where their friendship will fall apart.

‘Nothing was the same after fourth year’ she says out loud without realising it, but she doesn’t need to elaborate, Neville remembers the way she fought with Harry and Ron that year very well.

‘It was the first time I understood the way they were using my friendship to punish me when I didn’t agree with them’ she adds, recognising the way she tried to change herself in fifth year to better fit the idea others had of her.

She’s about to say more, but she stops when she follows her younger self gaze, and on the other side of the courtyard she sees Draco walk with Theodore and Blaise, laughing at a joke after Quidditch practice.

‘I always thought he was pretty, even when I didn’t like him’ she says as Neville stops as well next to her. She knows he’s looking at Theodore the way she’s looking at Draco, longingly, with the desire to rewind time and change things, so that they can have more memories, more time…

Another door appears in front of them, and Hermione leads Neville through this one as well, forcing herself to look away from a version of Draco that still didn’t know pain, fear, betrayal and loss.

They’re in the old Ancient Runes classroom right now, and she’s grateful Neville says nothing as he observes the way she and Draco silently compete with each other. Ancient Runes was the only class they shared alone, no Harry, no Ron, no Crabbe, Goyle, not even Theodore and Blaise. Just the two of them and their academic rivalry, they way they always smirked at one another as they got the answer right, daring the other to outdo them.

Another door, and Hermione relieves all over again the way Draco deteriorated through sixth year, her incapacity to change things making her walk fast until she finds another door.

‘Ah, of course’ Neville says as they reach Grimmuld Place.

It’s the night Draco and Narcissa arrived after defecting, after leaving Voldemort and their home after Lucius was killed when his wand broke in Voldemort’s hand as he tried and failed to kill Harry. She watches, as petrified as she was then, as Draco is dragged in and then from room to room, dosed so heavily with Veritaserium the effects lasted hours.

Which is why the words escape from his mouth.

‘You’re more beautiful than I remembered’

He bites his lips so hard he makes them bleed, both of them blushing as Hermione almost loses her grasp on her wand. She was trying to heal some of the bruises on his skin before the next round of interrogation, and his words stun her into silence. She’s never been called beautiful, she’s been called many things, but beautiful has never been one of them. Krum had muttered something about her looking _great_ at the Yule Ball, but after everything that happened with Ron, that had been the end of it. Ron, even after confessing his feelings for her, has never called her beautiful once.

‘You always hated my hair’ it’s all she manages to say.

‘I thought that if I said it aloud enough times, maybe I would believe it. I could never…’ but Draco stops himself again, biting his lips again.

Hermione couldn’t move even if she wanted to, mesmerised by the memory she’s reliving. She watches as her lips curve, for a first time, in a smile for Draco Malfoy, she watches as his eyes go wide, as a spark of hope blossoms inside them both, a link between them that will carry them through the war.

The room suddenly shakes, lights flickering, and it’s not part of the memory.

‘We need to keep going, something must be happening outside’ Neville exclaims taking her hand, dragging her away.

The next set of doors come in rapid succession.

It’s her bursting in Draco’s laboratory for the first time after another argument with Ron, after she made clear she didn’t want a relationship with him. It’s Narcissa making tea for her and Draco, already seeing what their tenuous friendship will become. Draco almost crying of happiness at Theodore joining the Order. Draco, Theodore, Blaise and Pansy in a group hug as the latter two joined the Order as well, she and Neville watching them with small smiles on their faces, much like they are doing now before passing through another door.

It’s the memory of when she received the news about her parents’ incident in Australia, Draco leaving the safe house for the first time since he joined the Order just to get to her as she cried her heart out on the steps of her old home. Draco holding her when Crookshanks was killed in a raid by Death Eaters on one of their safe houses. Draco listening as she expressed her frustration with the Order’s methods and plans, Draco helping her, understanding her curiosity and leading her through her dark magic studies, making sure she could recognise what she could use and what would fireback and try to eat away at her magic and her soul.

She hears Neville choke a sob when they pass through the memory of Draco and Theo trying to cook after Neville’s parents were killed by Death Eaters at Saint Mungo to make sure he knew they were with him, even if it was just the four of them in the empty kitchen of Grimmuld Place. It’s countless memories of their time in that very kitchen after that, laughs and warmth and love even in the mists of war, even when everything seemed to be about to fall apart, the Order, her friendship with Ron and Harry.

‘We should call her Aurora, if it’s a girl’ Draco says as they cross another door. They’re cuddling in front of the fire in their room, and Hermione tries not to shake as she watches, she doesn’t even look at Neville for fear of what she will see on his face. She goes through the next door immediately as Neville rushes to keep up, and then she almost falls on her knees, panic taking her breath away.

They’re at Hogwarts again, the wards still intact, and she’s hiding with Draco in a nook of a corridor.

‘We should run away’ she hears herself say to Draco.

He smiles, a hand to brush behind her ear a lock of hair that escaped her messy bun, ‘We should’

They won’t. She knows now and she knew it then, but her heart breaks all the same as she watches their last kiss, their last moment of calm, of stolen happiness.

The next door is the wards collapsing, her rushing up the stairs from the Chamber of Secrets, not even thinking about Ron or his safety when Death Eaters start to come their way. He could have died and she wouldn’t have even stopped afraid as she was for Draco, not when she knew he would use fiendyfire to destroy the diadem.

The door after that is Fred dying, Hermione rushing past the Weasleys to get to Draco as Voldemort’s voice reverberates through the castle, finding him safe with Theodore and Neville.

Hermione already knows what she will see once she crosses the next door, she’s not sure she can take it.

‘I can’t do it’ she says shaking her head, tears already filling her eyes.

‘Hermione, you did amazing so far. We have to keep going. I’ll be here’ Neville has not spoken so far, and she’s thankful for it. She’s even more thankful when his arm moves around her shoulder, it’s the only thing that keeps her from collapsing as they reach the battle in the courtyard after Voldemort’s death.

Hermione cannot stop crying as she watches, horrified once again, she and Draco fighting back to back, using dark magic and complicated ancient runes to withstand Bellatrix and Dolohov’s attack. Dolohov dies by her hand, her curse finally getting through his defences, his skin turning an ashen grey until he collapses on the ground. Bellatrix is mad, Bellatrix is fast, and when she sees Dolohov fall, she becomes even more angry.

A curse Hermione has never heard spills from the mad woman’s lips, and she can barely turn towards Draco before she realises that he turned towards her as well. He didn’t even try to defend himself, he knew how dark the curse was, and he just sacrificed himself for her. She has to watch all over again as the light disappear from his eyes, as he falls to the ground with her name on his lips.

Hermione never knew she screamed when Draco fell, she didn’t realise it at the moment, anger and pain overwhelming as the killing curse erupts from her wand erasing Bellatrix’s smirk from her face forever. With Neville’s arm around her, she watches as she keeps screaming for him until Seamus, Dean, and Ernie McMillain drag her away from him, they have to stun her to stop her from screaming and kicking.

She knows all too well what happens next, the hours she spent crying over his body in the Great Hall, trying every spell she could think of to undo it, to bring him back. The memory freezes, the ground shaking again, and she can feel Neville’s anxiety rising and rising. It’s what gives Hermione strength to go through the next set of doors.

It’s Draco and Narcissa’s funeral. It’s only her, Neville, a very sick Theodore, Blaise and Pansy in attendance as they are buried next to Lucius in the family plot on the far west side of the gardens of the Manor. Next it’s her walking through the halls of the Manor, mindlessly repairing it for weeks, purging every trace of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It’s Neville coming and going as she never speaks more than two words. It’s her finding pictures of Draco as a baby and imagining what their child would have looked like, crying for an entire day afterwards as the smell of him slowly leaves his clothes.

Then they reach a memory that leaves Hermione confused. She’s in the Malfoy library, texts on ancient magic open all over the place, covering the floors, the tables. Even through the memory, she can feel the tick smell of magic filling the room.

‘I don’t… remember this’ she admits as she watches herself stand in the middle of the library, sitting cross legged on the floor in circle filled with runes carved on the wooden floorboards. There’s magic coming from it, from the circle, and she’s studying an extremely old text that levitates in front of her, her wand in her hand.

‘What is the circle for?’ Neville asks moving around the Hermione from the memory ‘I’ve never seen these runes’

‘It’s for containment, the book is very powerful’ she answers, leaving herself confuse. ‘How do I know that?’

Neville looks extremely worried now. There’s a strange red light in her eyes that grows the more she reads page after page of the book.

‘Let’s try this’ the Hermione from the memory says, raising her wand, whispering a spell so ancient it seems to suck the air out of the library.

Something happens to her wand, it explodes into a million pieces in a flash of light, and when Hermione and Neville can see again, they find the library in chaos, and her old self on the floor feet away from the runes circle, the books she was studying nowhere to be seen. Hermione watches herself slowly stand up, a bit horrified as something seems to glow under her skin, in her veins, until she open her eyes, a red spark shining in them.

‘What… what are you doing?’ Neville asks watching as her old self moves her hands in front of her face, looking almost crazy, as if she’s touching something that is clearly not there. But she knows now.

The memories are slowly coming back to Hermione, bit by bit, piece by piece.

‘It was the first time I saw the patterns, the threads’ she says.

‘What?’

‘Magic… is patterns, and threads, that can be called through spells, channeled through wands. It moves around us and inside us’ she explains as they watch herself slowly discovering it, touching it for the first time.

Neville sucks in a breath as he watches her rise off the ground, levitate feet above the floor without a wand, without saying anything. A flicker of her hand, magic swirling a rich red around her, and the library is swiftly repaired, returned to her previous status. But there’s no sight of the book that had been in front of her.

‘Do you think it was the book or the spell you tried to cast?’ he asks.

The more she remembers, the more Hermione becomes aware of the magic that surrounds them, of the magic inside her, of what she did.

‘I think it might have been a mix of both’

‘Where did it go?’

‘I honestly don’t know’ she reveals.

She’s afraid this is what finally breaks Neville, what pushes him away in fear, but he’s already next to her ‘Can you keep going?’ he asks, kind as always.

Hermione nods, but no door appears. She’s about to panic when she watches her old self attention being caught by something. They have to run to keep up as she flies outside the Manor and across the garden to where the tomb of the Malfoy family is, where Draco is.

A man in a cloak is destroying each tombstone, blasting them into rubbles.

‘What are you doing?!’ she screams in her memory.

The man tries to attack even her, but the magic around her is new, restless, and it reacts instinctively. It pushes the intruder against Narcissa’s half destroyed tomb, his hood falling away and revealing Lee Jordan.

He sneers and tries to attack her again, calling her a whore, insulting Draco and his family. The new magic in Hermione’s veins is so new, she can see her past self struggle to bend it to her will, not being fast enough, and Draco’s tomb is destroyed by Jordan, his casket bared for her to see.

Anger finally allows her to stop him, she hits him with something that leaves him petrifies as she slowly walks towards the tombs, repairing them. Draco’s she leaves for last. The piece of parchment she left over his casket at his funeral is still intact, the edges just a little bit burned by Jordan’s spells. Hermione picks it up, clutching it to her chest while with her free hand she repairs his tomb.

She doesn’t fly now, she walks through the garden until she reaches the small artificial forest of birch and pines. It’s easy to find the stone that marks the place she is looking for as it is unnaturally white, untouched by weather and time.

‘What is it?’ Neville asks next her, pulling her back into reality.

Hermione cannot find the force to speak, so she gestures for him to go forward and look for himself. She knows what he will see in her hands, the map of the Manor’s gardens, one of the few things Draco had taken with him after he defected with his mother. In his perfect handwriting, Draco wrote only three words on it, enclosed them in a heart, over the place he told her countless he would make theirs.

_Our forever home_

Neville steps away after he reads, his face twisted by sorrow as they both watch her clutch the piece of parchment to her chest, crying, overwhelmed by anger, pain, heartbreak and sorrow making her fall to her knees until magic bursts free around her when she screams.

It’s an explosion. It’s a wave, a wall of red magic that quickly covers the entire Manor, but the magic that comes out of her doesn’t stop. It’s swirls, red and alive, all around her, building the walls of the cottage, every piece of furniture, and Draco.

She watches as he takes form, as the sight of him wipes the pain from her face.

‘Oh Circe’ Neville exclaims, and it’s what snaps her back into reality. Suddenly they’re pushed out of the memory and they’re once again in the garden, in the present, the barrier glowing red in the sky above the. Draco holding Aurora tightly in his arm, worry clear on his face.

‘Hermione, what’s going on?’ he asks rushing to her and Neville.

‘It’s okay, I have everything under control. I will fix it’ she says holding his hand, leaving a kiss on Aurora’s cheek.

‘Hermione’ Neville calls her, and his voice is filled with pain.

‘ _No_ ’

‘Hermione, please’ he repeats as Draco looks first at her and then at the barrier above them, around them.

‘Neville, go first’ Draco says, and surprisingly Neville nods.

He doesn’t leave without putting his hand on Draco’s shoulder, his eyes filled with tears as he moves to say goodbye to Aurora. When he looks at her, Hermione can see the pain in Neville’s eyes, he knows exactly what he’s asking of her, and he wouldn’t do it if there was another way. She could push him out like she pushed Ginny out, she could send the still petrified Jordan out, too, but that wouldn’t stop the Ministry and its attack. Hermione is strong, but she’ll get tired eventually if they keep attacking her. She’s not sure for how long she can protect them. She’s not sure if she can, not like this.

As Neville disappears from their view, Draco gives her a small smile and he takes her hand, guiding her back to the cottage, never looking at the red sky above them. Like every night, they have dinner together, then they prepare Aurora for bed, and it’s hard to hold in the tears as she watches Draco read her a bedtime story until she falls asleep. He lives a kiss on her forehead and then he moves to leave space for Hermione to do the same.

‘Mom and dad love you so much’ she whispers through the tears, taking just another second to listen to her daughter sleep peacefully.

Even with Draco’s hands in hers, closing the door of the nursery behind her it’s one of the hardest things she has ever done. They walk down the stairs in silence, and then they’re back in the living room, where she first saw him, where she…

‘I’ve known for a while that something was not right’ Draco says looking down at their linked hands, touching the ring on her finger almost reverently. ‘I could never remember our wedding, and that seems unlikely. It was the best day of my life after all, how could I forget it?’

His sad smile is what makes Hermione cry, what breaks her heart all over again.

‘I’m… ‘ she doesn’t even know what to say, she just wants to hold on to him forever, to this perfect little slice of life.

He’s still smiling as he dries the tears from her cheek, his hands warm, and Hermione leans into it, covering his hands with hers ‘I know you’ll set everything right, just not for us’ he murmurs, his sadness matching her own.

‘No. Not for us, not now. But I will find a way, I will fix it’ she promises, to him, to herself, because otherwise she won’t be able to do this, otherwise she will never be able to let go.

Their kiss is different from the last one they shared hidden in that nook during the battle, it’s softer, the goodbye they were never able to say, a moment that for once is theirs and theirs alone instead of stolen.

‘I have to ask’ Draco murmurs, his forehead pressed to hers, unable to step away ‘what am I?’

‘You…’ Hermione says trying to remember every detail of his face, trying to hold on to him forever ‘you are my memories, my dreams… you are my sadness and my hope. But mostly, you're my love’ she reveals.

It’s her turn to dry the tears from his cheeks, cradling his face in her hands as they keep looking at each other instead that at the red walls of the barrier slowly retracting towards them. Stretching the inevitable into a small eternity.

‘We never got to say goodbye before, so maybe it means…’ he hurries, the red light becoming brighter and brighter, the cottage around them slowly disappearing back into nothingness.

‘We’ll say hello again’ she promises, she vows, as his body slowly dissolves into silver dust under her hands, his eyes never leaving hers.

‘So long, darling’ he whispers before she is left staring at the place where he used to be.

* * *

The first thing Theodore sees as the barrier recedes is Neville.

He is standing still, looking at something he cannot yet see until the barrier disappears completely, until Hermione is in front of them, holding Draco’s face in her hands and crying as his body turns to silver dust that is carried away by the wind, the sight stunning everyone into silence.

Theodore’s heart breaks all over again.

He’s exhausted, he’s been fighting Shacklebolt’s Aurors for over an hour with Ginny, with Potter surprisingly, alongside Blaise and Pansy who took the first international portkey from Italy as soon as he called them, Daphne, Astoria, and their husbands Pucey and Montague following. They manage to stop the attack mid-way through, but they were still fighting furiously when the barrier began to recede, stunning everyone into a silence filled with anxiety and dread.

Despite everything, Theo forces his legs to move towards Neville and Hermione.

‘Where is he? Where’s Aurora?’ his voice is cracked, filled with pain, and it’s more of a plea than a question.

‘Oh, Theo’ Hermione says as fresh tears fall down her face.

‘But I saw him’ it’s all he can say, his hands shaking so much he loses his hold on his wand.

It’s Hermione that brushes the tears from his face as everything he thought he moved past resurfaces inside him, threatening to drown him, the guilt for not having been there, for not having done enough, for… everything, _everything_.

‘You knew about the bet, how could you know about the bet?’ he asks between sobs, Neville’s arms warm on his waist, Hermione’s hand cold on his cheeks, soothing.

‘Theo, he told me about it. We talked about what we dreamed every time it got too hard, every time the pain was too sharp. We talked about what we would have done if we just left’

‘You should have left! You should have!’ he screams, the pain so sharp he thinks his lungs will collapse, he will collapse, his body crumbling if not for Neville, for Hermione.

She smiles at him, a sad smile that yet is filled with love and affection, and he can’t take it. Why doesn’t she hate him for not doing more?

‘Theo’ Hermione says suffocating her own sobs, her hand brushing away the hair that fell in front of his eyes, ‘we stayed to fight for us, but we stayed to fight for you, too’ she tells them ‘he would be so happy to know you’re alright’

Theo can’t take it. It’s not fair, Draco should be there, with Hermione, like it was supposed to be. The four of them touring muggle London on the weekends, discovering things together, the Friday nights spent watching Neville and Draco cook for them without the war looming outside the kitchen. Theo wanted to hold Draco and Hermione’s daughter, watch for himself what loving parents looked like and then convince Neville that they could do it, give a child the love they never experienced firsthand.

It wasn’t fair.

Hermione pushes him and Neville into a hug, and it’s then that he knows she will leave. It feels like another piece of Draco disappearing, and Theo cannot catch a breath. The pain would be unbearable if it wasn’t for Neville, his hand solid in his and his grip tight.

‘Thank you, I’m sorry for this’ Hermione says breaking away, drying away the last of her tears before she steps toward the others.

She nods in acknowledgement at Ginny, silently thanking her, she smiles at Blaise and Pansy, and the other Slytherin that came for her, and then, finally, she looks at Potter.

‘I’m sorry’ he says, endless sadness in his eyes.

‘I know’ Hermione says. ‘I will need some time to figure out this new… magic’ she adds looking down at her hands.

Theodore sucks in a breath as her eyes turn red, a red different from that of Dark Lord, deeper, warmer, magic equally red moving in her hands.

A snap of her fingers and her clothes are transfigured, from the vintage dress she was wearing to a travel ensemble: dark trousers, high boots, a jumper and a dark cloak to cover her shoulders.

She gives her back to them and everyone watches in awe as she lifts off the ground, magic bright in her hands. Lee Jordan suddenly appears in front of them, and with a twist of her hand, Hermione protects Malfoy Manor with new, more conventional wards. She faces them once more, and the small smile that curves her lips is just for him and Neville.

‘Thank you, for everything’ she says.

Another small movement of her hands, and in a cloud of red smoke, Hermione Granger disappears.

* * *

It took her months to realise the book wasn’t gone. It merely protected itself, hiding in plain sight, in the threads moved by her own magic.

Hermione spends a whole year looking for it, for the curse Bellatrix used on Draco, the one he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to protect himself from, the one he knew would stop at nothing until it found a body.

Hermione has always been brilliant, tenacious, determined, inventive, and she didn’t lie. She made a vow to Draco, not the vow she dreamed to make to him, but one all the same. It takes her a year and a half to go back to the Manot.

Neville and Theodore are already there, Ginny and Harry with them. She called the first two for support, the latter because if it worked she needed someone of weight that could explain it to the Ministry.

‘You’re more powerful now?’ Ginny asks as they walk the gardens towards the burial place of the Malfoy family, the full moon illuminating their way.

‘No, I simply see, _understand_ , magic better’ she explains not even looking at her, looking at Theo and Neville in front of them, the tension clear in the way they walk.

Hermione spent a whole month debating with herself if she should call them or not, she didn’t wanted to break their hearts all over again, but she is fairly certain this will work. So they have a right to be with her when it does.

‘Necromancy is forbidden, the Ministry won’t listen to me either on that subject’ Harry mutters as they gather around Draco’s tomb, and Hermione smiles.

‘He was never dead’ she says, and she watches as the four of them exchange confused looks, probably wondering if she lost her mind.

‘Open it, see for yourself’ she adds nodding down towards Draco’s tomb.

It’s Ginny who takes out her wand to move the slab of stone and lift the casket off the ground, but it’s Neville who insist on opening the casket by hand.

No one seems to breathing once the cover is removed. Draco looks as if he is asleep, his body showing no trace of decay.

‘Bellatrix didn’t kill him. She cursed him with dark magic. It should have killed him, but it didn’t’

‘Why?’ Theo asks finally looking up from his friend’s face.

‘Because I’m not dead’ she answers taking Draco’s hand in hers, the skin cold under her palm ‘during the last months of the war we studied dark and ancient magic more and more, sometimes we practiced with each other. Inadvertently, through an old runes ritual we performed to discover the cure to the latest of Dolohov’s curses, we linked our souls, our essence, our magic. I believe Bellatrix’s curse, born of hate and darkness, was stopped by that, by our bond, our love, just like Lily Potter’s sacrifice saved Harry. The curse was powerful, the bond was stronger, but the fallout caused Draco to fall into this state. I think… now that I know more, that I _see_ magic, I might be able to wake him’

She doesn’t wait for them to say anything. Hermione moves over him until she can clearly see the threads of Draco’s magic, of their bond, and what the dark curse has tangled and damaged. She pushes her hands in, fixing it, purifying it, regenerating the links that have been severed, her love for him the only things that she allows herself to feel, and when she’s done, she steps back.

They watch in silence. Seconds pass, then minutes, and just when Hermione is about to succumb to fear, something pokes at her magic, something tugs at her from the other end on the bond.

Draco suddenly opens his eyes, a blue spark in them that is opposite, complementary, to the red spark in her eyes.

‘Hello, my darling’


End file.
